May 9th, 2016
With rivers in my eyes I begin to catalogue myself
With each entry I find a piece of my reflection
A Recognition of my designated identities:
With rivers in my eyes that I rarely allow to overflow, I begin to become my reflection
and to forcefully,
unknowingly perform it,
Dance to the stagnant composition that everyone has heard.
My throat is closed shut
My vision blurred
For all I see is a person in the looking glass who I must pretend to be.
Our lives must be performed as though they are staged events
No room for improvisation
No room for searching
All inflexible adagios:
We must display that which has been catalogued about us without our consent.
The rivers in me begin to overflow
And my vision is blurred with clarity
And so I paint over the words that were written onto me before I even knew what they meant
Because I now know that my unauthorized catalogue and my directed performance are all but indestructible.
I modify my own catalogue
Scrub the words and images off of it with urgency and purposeful confusion
I leave my catalogue blank:
An empty labyrinth of self identification and creation that does not conform to the ideals of other’s frozen inner rivers.
My new catalogue ceaselessly overflows,
Washing off the paint and uncovering my ascriptions
But I keep painting over them
This time: Consensually